


Dear Thorin

by Insomnia_in_Portland



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bilbo Goes on the Lam, Bilbo's Soulmate Will Be Revealed at the End, Don't Read if You Love Thilbo, Durins Can't Take No for an Answer, Gen, Letters, M/M, One-Sided Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, no non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1999497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomnia_in_Portland/pseuds/Insomnia_in_Portland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short series of letters from a hobbit to a king he cannot accept.  (Originally posted to FF.net)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. Just joined AO3 and will be posting my fics from ff.net. Here's the first. Hope you enjoy.

Dear Thorin,

If you are reading this, you know that I am gone. I’m sure that you are sending search parties out to look for me. I know you hope that I haven’t gotten too far from Erebor. You’ll find that I’m well beyond your reach. No search party will be able to find me or any trace of me. I’ll be a ghost upon the roads and a specter amongst the trees. You will find nothing of me.

I wish I didn’t have to resort to such drastic measures, but you left me no other choice. Leaving is the best thing I can do. There is no bond that will bring me back to Erebor. I am not your Consort-in-Waiting. I am not your future betrothed. I can be nothing to you. I know you’re thinking of a rebuttal to these words. I’m sure you think that my nerves have gotten the better of me. After all, you announced our engagement to the entire court without consulting me. You likely think I’m just angry. To be honest, I am angry. I’m angry that you took matters into your own hands without realizing the consequences. Thorin, I cannot be yours! I can never be yours. If we were to be married, you would begin to realize this. My heart would be beyond your promises of fidelity and love. No riches or glory would ever coax it into your hands. It would remain locked away, pining for the love denied it. You would grow angry with me. I know you would think I was being unfaithful. So I must take steps to ensure your sanity and my safety. The best way I can do that is to explain something you are familiar with.

You see, Thorin, we hobbits have Ones too. You have soul-runes. We have soul-marks. A soul-mark is a precious thing to a hobbit. We bear our mark on the palms of our left hands. They come in a variety of different forms, but some are common. For example, someone destined for a Took or Brandybuck will bear the crest of that family on their palm. Most of the time, the marks are faint. We can see them and know what their shape is. Yet it takes being in the presence of our One to bring the mark to life. A mark will color into a rainbow when it’s close to its mate. My father’s mark colored on the way home from the market. It remained steady all the way to the gate. It took him looking behind him to find my mother following him. They had bumped into each other at the market. She followed him to make sure it was his mark hers responded to and not someone else’s. 

We hobbits guard our marks carefully. We dare not risk forcing a mark to accept one it doesn’t belong to. To force a bond is a high crime in the Shire. To accept someone who isn’t our mate brings forth consequences too numerous to name here. Hobbits do not look kindly on those who renounce their mate because of lust or fancy. Do not think we are being too narrow-minded, Thorin. I myself have seen what becomes of hobbits who ignore their marks and accept someone else and those who try to force a bond. It is not something pleasant. Yet what sends me running is not my hobbit sensibilities.

You see, Thorin, my mark met its mate. It met it at the worst possible moment. I don’t know what I’d done to be punished that way, but my soulmate is dead. I do not know if they ever knew I was their One. My other half will never know me. My heart will never be complete. You can never fill the jagged void left behind, Thorin. There is nothing in Erebor that will ever fill the void. So I take my leave of you and your kingdom. I pray you find your One. Find your happiness, Thorin, for it will never be found in me. 

Bilbo  
P.S.: Do not assume someone in the Company stole my heart. One, my mark never colored around any of the others. Two, all of them are alive.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dear Kili,

I’m sure you’re surprised to find this. I was sorely tempted to leave just my note to your uncle. Yet I felt it wise to leave one for you. Do not think my anger has blinded me.

Despite how fond I am of you, I cannot excuse your insistent whimsies. I begged you, I BEGGED YOU, to not whisper in your uncle’s ear. I begged you not to exacerbate his growing infatuation. For that is what it is, Kili. Your uncle is simply infatuated with me. I do not know how you mistook this for love. Why did you have to be a foolish romantic? Why could you not see that I cared for your uncle as a friend? That care will never blossom into love. I know you think I’m denying my feelings, but what I say is true. My heart cannot accept Thorin. If you were present when my note to him was discovered, you will hear why.

Do not think that I could grow to love your uncle. For a hobbit, no other can fill the void left behind by a dead soulmate. I pray you will realize this in due time. Until then, do not assume I will be found. I especially hope you will not encourage your uncle’s infatuation.

Bilbo  
P.S.: Fili: try to be the sensible one. Try to make them see I will be the cause of misery.


	2. Letter from the East

Dear Thorin,

I had hoped your infatuation with me would fade in my absence. I had hoped these weeks would make you see sense. Alas, someone somewhere seems to hate me. If this last week has taught me anything, it’s that you lack advisors with good sense. It seems Fili disregarded my plea and sided with his brother. Pity, really. He seemed the most likely to be the voice of reason.

First off, don’t bother sending search parties to where I am. To be clear, I really have no idea where I am. I’m being serious, Thorin. I truly have no clue where I am. All I can say is that I’m in a settlement somewhere in the east. The people are a wary lot, but they didn’t throw me out immediately. I guess it had something to do with my appearance. After weeks of travel, I looked like a beggar. My hair was bird’s nest. My clothes were dirty from travel and the hair on my feet needed a proper trim and wash. The people allowed me entry. So far, they’ve kept me at arm’s length. I guess they wonder when I’ll leave. They won’t have to worry much longer. By the time you get this, I’ll be long gone. 

Travel allowed me time to think. I thought of Bag End and how my ravenous relations were fighting over it. I thought of Erebor and how reconstruction must be going. Yet the focus of my thoughts remained with you. Don’t think I pined for your arms. I thought of where our friendship went so wrong. I pondered every moment, seeking where you began to fall for me. I realized that this mess began after Azog. My determination to save you regrettably looked like the opening salvo of a courtship. I thought our hug was purely out of gratitude. I analyzed the tightness of your arms and the sheen in your eyes. In my relief, I failed to notice the stirrings of desire. From that point, I mistook growing lust for gratitude and friendship. It wasn’t until I caught Kili whispering in your ear that I realized the full scope of the situation.

I wonder how you are. You’re likely angry with me and the search parties. I know you thought I would be easy to find. As I told you previously, you would find nothing of me. I believe you sent search parties in the direction of the Shire. In truth, I took a less-known path off Erebor. I encountered few dwarves on this road. When I did, I kept hidden until I knew I was safe. Once off the mountain, I allowed my feet to carry me away. Don’t be too hard on the search parties. It’s not their fault they were looking in the wrong direction. 

I’d hoped time would give you pause to think of what I said in the letter I left for you. I’d hoped someone in your court would make you see sense. Apparently, no one has the guts to speak against your wishes. I know this because I know of the reward you’ve offered up. Yes, word of it has reached the East. The settlement is trading partners with a larger one near a river. After weeks of regularity, the settlement erupted with interest. I listened to the whispers and found myself wanting to throttle you. The residents whispered of a mountain king seeking his runaway intended. The intended had foolish ideas in their head and decided to run off. After weeks of searching, the king was offering a chest of gold to anyone who returned the runaway. 

After reading this, I’m sure you’re thinking someone would have put the pieces together. You’ll be chagrined to know no one looked twice at me. I think they thought your intended was a dwarf. They didn’t even realize they were speaking of me. I don’t think they know of hobbits, Thorin. If they do, they must have a different word for us. In truth, I don’t think they’re familiar with us. That’s a fact I’m grateful for.

I’m sure you’re wondering where I’ll go next. I know you desire my return. I will never return to Erebor, not as long as you cling to your infatuation. I beg you to think, Thorin. Do not allow this infatuation to become an obsession. There will never be a happy ending for us. There is someone who awaits you. Listen to the rune instead of your desire. I will reunite with my One in death. I will enjoy their love when I have finished the mortal world. This may make you angry, but it’s the truth. My One awaits me in another world. If the fates had been kinder, I would have followed them during the Battle. I would embrace them with all the love a hobbit possesses. We would never be parted. Alas, I must wait for that day.

I hope this letter find you well.

Bilbo

P.S.: To Fili and Kili: I pray that you will see sense one day. Your uncle is chasing promises I can never make. Cling not to your affection. Break through his walls and help him realize he will end up with a broken heart if he continues to pursue me.


	3. Notes from Umbar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of the three originally posted to ff.net. Due to how short this is, ch. 4 immediately follows.

Dear Thorin,

I pray this letter finds you well. I did not mean to go months without sending something, but events here made it impossible to send anything. I truly apologize for any worry the delay may have caused. I will try to keep my scolding to a minimum. I know you’re hoping I have returned to parts known so you may send a party to retrieve me. It would be for nothing. You dwarves may wander far, but not far enough to find me. What I am about to say will not please you, but at this precise moment I could care less. 

As of this writing, I am in Umbar. That’s right: Umbar. To be more specific, I am in a port city along southern Umbar’s coastline. I honestly don’t know how to pronounce the name, but the translation of it is, “Gate of the Watching Sea Beast.” If Ori is still in Erebor, have him to a little research. I wish I had the time and parchment to describe this city. It really is a wondrous place. Yet the politics of neighboring cities has brought this place low. I cannot properly describe the situation as letters and parcels are being routinely searched. I have no clue what they’re looking for, but know any ill word results in a person being taken for “questioning.” If the injuries I’ve seen are the result of such actions, I must be careful.

I’m sure you’re wondering how I managed to get to Umbar from where I was last time. It’s a long story. All I can say is that it involves hostages, a lost treasure, another dragon, and the Blue Wizards. (If Gandalf should ever grace Erebor with an appearance, tell him Alatar and Pallando say hello and that it’s Saruman’s fault they never made it home. They also understand why I fled. They saw my soul-mark and divined who my One was.) Let it be known that I truly despise ships. Especially ones that belong to pirates and get into pirate battles over pirate booty. Speaking of which, I am now the proud owner of a small chest of pirate loot that I’ve hidden in the city.

I do not know how long it will take for this letter to find you. There’s no bird that could survive the journey from here to Erebor. I’m sneaking this aboard a merchant ship that’s heading back north. I hope the man I dealt with will remember our deal. I gave him a piece of my treasure, so he better not negate our deal.

I do hope you are well. I especially hope time has allowed you to think. You must realize by now that I will never return to you. I pray someone will finally have a clear head to make you understand this. I hope you will accept the branch of friendship for that is all I can give you. Please realize the truth of my words. I do not know what dwarven law you will try to use as weight against my denials, but they will not work. I cannot be yours for my heart lies dead with someone else.

Bilbo  
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
Dear Thorin,

This is just a quick note. I send this to you from a ship heading north. I’ve beheld violence the Battle cannot rival. War erupted between rivals and the port city paid dearly for its location. I managed to find passage aboard this ship. I used my treasure chest to pay for my passage and that of a few others. I bitterly regret that I could not help more. I offer this warning. Do not assume I will be found easily. Should you still cling to your infatuation with me, I know how to best hide from any and all search parties you send out to find me. I do not know where I will end up, but know it will not be anywhere near you.

Bilbo.


	4. Greetings from Mirkwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 4 commences what was never posted to ff.net and the countdown to who Bilbo's One is.

Dear Thorin,

Before you go gallivanting off to see Thranduil, I demand that you read this entire letter! (If someone else is reading this, stop Thorin before he leaves.) Yes, I have returned from Umbar. I will not say where I landed or how long I’ve been back as I will not have you getting ideas. Yes, I managed to make my way into Mirkwood. I have been Thranduil’s guest for several months now. That’s right, months. He graciously allowed me to rest within his house and tended to my wearied state. He has been a most elegant host and I thank him heartily for his discretion. He has offered assistance in my return to the Shire.

Ah, the Shire. You have no idea how I long to behold my homeland once more. During my voyage from Umbar, I started to dream of Bag End. I dreamed of my cozy chair, my books, and my bed. That was nothing compared to my dreams of the Shire itself. I once dreamed I flew over the whole landscape, seeing everything anew. I saw hills of verdant green and fields of dappling yellow and sun-kissed gold. They rolled beneath me, rippling happily as though they were welcoming me home. I saw the great Party Tree standing majestically against a tapestry of diamond, sapphire, and gold. Its great trunk puffed with pride while its wizened branches, decorated with a blanket of autumn, rustled a greeting. I flew over the homes of my neighbors and kin. My dream ended when I came to the door of Bag End. The image of that round, green door remained with me after I woke. Oh, Thorin. Returning to the Shire will be bittersweet for I know I may no longer have a home.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m being foolish for I have a home. With you. As Consort of Erebor. Oh, Thorin. I still held out hope that my absence would make you see sense. I had hoped you would realize the foolishness of your persistence. Alas, all my hopes were for naught. During my time in Thranduil’s house, I passed many days with him in conversation. I learned much about Erebor during those talks. 

Our conversations ultimately turned to the reason why I ran. To be honest, I was reluctant to share why. After all, Thranduil is an Elf of high quality. What care would he have for a hobbit bereft of his mate? To my great astonishment, he was quite sympathetic to my plight. He understood, far better than you, my reasons for running. You should not be surprised that he cursed your stubbornness. He even shared what happened to some of his kin who dared disregard their marks. The fates of those poor Elves would make even you shiver with fear, Thorin. When I asked him if you had taken a wife, he regaled me with information that makes me curse your fat head!

Apparently, you have risked open insurrection by refusing to take a wife. Several prominent lords have offered you their daughters and you have refused them all. You claim that you are engaged! I was horrified to learn that you threatened to kill several lords if they continued to pester you. You narrowly avoided assassination twice! The Consort’s Chambers are always maintained. You allow no one to enter but yourself. You have even replaced the Consort’s Chair. According to Thranduil, that only occurs when a king considers himself exclusive to one lover. You have even kept fresh a wardrobe of royal garments. All of them are sized not for a dwarf, but someone smaller. I nearly had a fit when he told me you have a crown made for someone of my size.

Oh, Thorin.

Thorin, Thorin, Thorin!

Before I start yelling at you, I’m going to take this opportunity to yell at your two dimwitted nephews. Yes, Fili and Kili, I mean you! How dare you! How bloody dare you! How dare you fill your uncle’s head with such nonsense that he’s angered others to the point of civil war! Are you two so dense that you cannot see reality? Are your desires so blatantly entrancing that they’ve blinded you to the truth? I DO NOT LOVE THORIN! I WILL NEVER LOVE THORIN! He is not my soulmate! I will not risk madness or catatonia just to please a king whose ego overpowers his brain!

As for you, Thorin…

What must I say? What must I do? What must I accomplish to make you understand that I will never be yours? Are you so blinded by your own feelings that you cannot see the reality in front of you? Think about it! I ran from you, have travelled to parts no hobbit should ever go to just to escape you, and returned via secret routes to avoid you! I have written primarily out of courtesy. I will not have the rest of the Company think me dead because you will not give up your pursuit. Thranduil suggested I be honest with you. I’ve decided to take his suggestion and reveal all that I was hoping never to say

Not once have I ever thought of you as a lover. Frankly, the thought of lying with you fills me with disgust. You are a handsome dwarf, I will admit that, but not once has this admission led to a desire to bed you or be bedded by you. I do not want you. Any physical intimacy between us would be marred. You would delude yourself into thinking I was being coy. What you would perceive as loving caresses and kisses would be forced actions on my part. Any moments of sexual intimacy would definitely be forced. I would not take any pleasure from being with you. I would feel nothing but dread at your touch. The distance I would keep between us would enrage you and that is something I do not wish to experience again. 

Secondly, why would I want to remain in Erebor? Erebor is not my home. Mountains, especially the interiors, are not for hobbits. They belong to beings of stone and darkness. We hobbits are beings of earth, sun, and open spaces. I am tied to the earth and sun just as you are tied to the mountain and that thrice-damned stone. I know you’re arguing that I could have that in Erebor. Knowing you, you would create a garden of unimaginable beauty for me somewhere on Erebor’s slopes. You would have gardeners plant every imaginable tree, flower, and shrub to give me something wondrous. In truth, I would find it wondrous, but I could never truly enjoy it. No artificial garden will ever replace the beauty of the Shire. What I would crave most is the feeling of openness. The feeling of being able to walk out and lose myself in the space around me. If I were to remain in Erebor, I would be a prisoner. I would be chained to that single garden. You must also realize the danger I would be in. Hobbits and dwarves function differently in darkness. You thrive where we falter. You would see me wither in the mountain’s darkness. The cold I had while Laketown would pale in comparison to the illnesses we hobbits suffer from when deprived of sunlight.

There are other valid reasons I can list, Thorin. I know a good many of your followers see me as the “Shire-rat who used his wiles to seduce the innocent king.” They don’t want me around and I’m going to oblige any foolishness by staying. Another is that I only promised to help you reclaim your home, not to stay permanently. I have no desire to be a king’s chained pet, spoiled and drowned in gold and jewels. There is nothing in Erebor that tempts me to stay. There are other reasons, but one supersedes them all.

Ultimately, Thorin, I cannot bring myself to trust you. I wish I could say that I felt safe around you, but I don’t. Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust you again. 

If you think I’m speaking of the gold-sickness, then you are partially correct. During my travels, I dreamt of you. Do not presume I longed for your arms. I dreamt of the day you succumbed to that darkness. Do you have any idea how foul you looked? I woke often, gasping for breath as my skin remembered the dark promise of your rage. You looked so foul, so evil. I know you will promise that the gold-sickness is gone. Yet I can never trust that promise or any promise you make. I would always wonder when you would succumb again. I would always dread the day you started to paw at your gold and riches like a slobbering Orc. I would especially dread the day you turn your hands in hate upon me. I know I would never leave Erebor alive if you ever succumbed again. That mountain would be my tomb. That darkness will never leave you, Thorin. So long as you breathe, you will always carry that malice within you. The bounty of Erebor will remain a temptation and I cannot be a part of it.

The other reason I can’t trust you is the Shire. I can’t trust that the Shire would be safe if I ever did anything to anger you. You’re likely rolling your eyes. I know you think you would leave the Shire alone. Take this into consideration. Could you leave the Shire alone if you learned it contained riches? Could you swear that my fellow hobbits would remain free, unencumbered by useless demands from a place they’ve never heard of? Can you honestly claim that you wouldn’t send an army to lay the Shire to waste if I didn’t submit as you wished? Could you make those promises honestly, Thorin? Could you?

I will end this letter now. The hour grows late and I still have much to prepare for. I am returning home. I don’t know if I will be welcomed or cast out. If the former, I will spend the remainder of my days in peace. If the latter, I will seek aid from my Took kin before seeking a new home. More importantly, I wish to pay a visit to a dear relative of mine. Before I say goodbye, I will tell you this. 

Don’t send search parties to Thranduil. He will not appreciate angry dwarves on his doorstep. It will be for nothing anyway. Though I return to the Shire, I will not be going by the regular way. Thranduil has provided a map that will send me along a less-travelled path to the Shire. His son will escort me to the border and see me off. I sincerely hope it’s as empty as advertised. 

Finally, do not think you will be able to catch me. By the time you receive this letter, I will have a two month head start.

Farewell  
Bilbo


	5. You Pinhead!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I had this completed, but didn't have the time to update. When I had the time, i found I had to change writing formats. --

_To Thorin Oak-for-Brains, Pinhead Under the Mountain,_

_My name is Lobelia Sackville-Baggins and I loathe your very existence! Were I a queen, I would march to your pile of rocks and lay waste to it with my army of brave hobbits! I would then flay your useless hide and use your furry self as a throw rug! You have caused me much grief, so being a throw rug would be the most merciful punishment you could get._

_Oh, you might be wondering who I am to make such a threat! You might even be laughing with your thickskulled brats and advisors at the nerve of this simple Shire woman! I tell you, O Pinhead, that I have every reason to be cross with you and your damned mountain. It’s because of you that all order has been overthrown here in the Shire. Nothing is as it should be. If you’re utterly confused as to why this is, allow me to tell you. It has everything to do with Bilbo Baggins!_

_When Bilbo ran off with you and your merry band of dimwits and that dratted wizard, we all knew what it meant. It meant that Bag End, spacious Bag End, was up for the plucking. Of course, we have some stupid law that says we have to wait one year in order to begin bidding for someone’s property. It really is a stupid law. We all knew that Bilbo wasn’t coming back from ADVENTURE! Adventure is pain and death and we all knew Bilbo was going to get a healthy dose of one and a complete dose of the other. Really, no hobbit in his right mind would go gallivanting off wi-_

_I have been told to get on with this letter. You see, I’m writing this under duress. My Lotho currently has a dagger pressed to his throat. This is another reason I loathe you, Pinhead._

_As I was saying, everyone in the Shire knew that Bilbo was never coming back from his grand adventure. We began sizing up Bag End. I shooed many fools away. Bag End was mine! I began to draw up plans for how it would look when I moved in. It would be a proper home instead of a pig sty. Of course, the Gamgees made things difficult. Hamfast (I swear he loves Bilbo more than his own wife sometimes) used an obscure part of the law to delay the sale of Bag End until we had proof Bilbo was dead. I lobbied hard against it, saying that Bilbo’s departure was proof of an addled mind. Fortunately, saner heads prevailed and the sale of Bag End and its contents was set._

_That is until SOMEONE decided to arrive in the Shire and completely disrupt all my best plans._

_That someone happens to be Bilbo’s soul mate. That’s right, Pinhead, Bilbo Baggins has a soul mate and he is alive and well. (He says hello, by the way.)_

_Apparently, he survived some disaster and managed to make his way to the Shire without a map. Some pointy-eared coot named Elrond tended to him when he fell ill. Once better, Elrond allowed him to leave. He made his way to our land. He officially arrived in Hobbiton one night in September. Based off the shrieks that roused us all, he terrorized the hobbits who had snuck into Bag End. We gathered in front of Bag End, beholding the sight of shaking hobbits pointing at that place like it was damned. The Mayor tried to get him to leave, but the bastard refused. He recognized Bilbo’s home as belonging to his mate and told us such. The Mayor ordered him to show us his soul mark. The bastard stepped out and obliged._

_His mark is fully colored. It’s in the shape of Bag End. I didn’t even have the heart to argue that night. The fact the mark is colored means Bilbo Baggins still lives._

_I hope you know this is all your fault. Bilbo’s mate is horrible. He allows no one to enter Bag End. He has shown me such blatant disrespect and dishonor. Of course, the Tooks and Brandybucks all love him. He is content to wait here until Bilbo’s return._

_He wants me to tell you that you better hope Bilbo comes back._

_CURSE YOU, YOU PINHEAD! A THOUSAND CURSES UPON YOUR FAT HEAD!_  
Sincerely,  
Lobelia Sackville-Baggins __


	6. Surprise!  (Worst.  Return.  Trip.  Ever!)

_Dear Thorin,_

_I have returned to the Shire and the most wonderful news imaginable! I don’t know what I’ve done to warrant such a gift, but here it is! My soul mate, my One, lives! He lives, he lives!_

_Oh, Thorin! Thorin, Thorin, Thorin!_

_You cannot imagine the sheer joy I felt when I looked upon the face of the one I thought dead. You cannot comprehend the delight I felt knowing that he survived, made it to my homeland, and waited for me to return! He greeted me with a smile and my world righted. Apparently, he survived despite the grievous nature of his wounds. He somehow made it alive to Rivendell, managing to elude all danger, especially that presented by the Misty Moutnains. Lord Elrond, bless his wise heart, allowed him to stay and rest. Once healed, he was given food and supplies and allowed to leave Rivendell for the Shire. I asked him how he knew where to go as he had no map. He simply told me his feet guided him home._

_Oh, do forgive me. I’m writing about him and I haven’t even told you about me. Well, there’s nothing much to tell. As I last told you, I was taking an alternate path to the Shire from Mirkwood. Lord Thranduil gave me a map that showed a lesser-known path away from that area of the world. His son graciously escorted me to a corner of Mirkwood’s border and bid me off. Prince Legolas was a kind companion during our time together. He too cursed your fat head upon learning of my plight and travails. He and his father both wanted me to have a small escort. I assured them there was no need for such precautions. I had no wish to strain their hospitality when they had been so gracious. The last image I have of Legolas is him watching me depart with troubled eyes._

_For the first two days, my luck held. The path was indeed less traveled. In fact, I encountered absolutely no one. My sole companions were the clouds, a few birds, and the rocks. I must admit that I felt lonely, especially at night. Memories of the Shire kept me strong. I kept on, assured of the fact that I would see my homeland once more. On day three, my luck ran out. Guess what I encountered?_

_Orcs. Filthy, slobbering Orcs._

_It was a rather large band. Cursing my luck, I was forced to hide behind a large group of boulders. I used special, eh, “precautions,” whenever they came too close. I feared my life was over several times as some who passed close paused and began sniffing wildly. Fortunately, these Orcs were reprimanded by larger commanders for being slow. I was able to glean some useful information. These were Orcs who turned tail and fled during the Battle. They were outcasts, too afraid to return to their filthy home for fear of punishment. It seemed one made himself master. This didn’t sit well with others. There was constant squabbling and plotting._

_I wasted several precious days hiding. The Orcs were too numerous. Any attempt I made to move on unnoticed was foiled by the wind. It seemed to pick up every time I tried to move. To make matters worse, it carried my scent directly to the Orc encampment. I spent several sleepless nights hiding while they searched for me. I swear I died every time they mentioned fresh meat. Compounding my misery was food. I rationed what food I was given, eating only enough to dull hunger’s edge. I rationed my water, sipping from my skein only when necessary. Alas, it came to the point that I had to move on. I waited until nightfall one chilly night. I waited until I was sure all of the Orcs were together. I gingerly put my pack on and began to creep out of my hiding spot. The wind kindly stayed away._

_Assured of success, I began to sneak away. I snuck right into three Wargs._

_One mottled beast let up a roar. I heard a distant din from the encampment. I ran._

_I’ve no real idea how long they chased me for. I dashed across water and plain, taking precautions when I needed to rest. I know I dashed close to the Mountains and then away from them. There were points I could see the edge of Mirkwood. I was always too far away to run right in. I think I zigzagged and circled the entire region between the Misty Mountains and Mirkwood._

_Finally, the Orcs gave up their pursuit. I don’t know why they did. You know as well as I do that they’re relentless. I think they were annoyed they couldn’t catch me. I found myself stranded near the Mountains. I took a needed rest, checking my supplies. I was low on water and food. I cursed my luck when I beheld the map. It came into contact with what remained of my treasure. (In case you’re wondering, I spent a good chunk when I returned to buy supplies. I kept enough in case of emergencies. The chest is now with a nice lady who kept me hidden from visiting dwarves.) My poor map was ruined. Cursing your fat head, I tossed it aside and spent a miserable night wondering what to do. I dared not venture back to Lord Thranduil. Only one solution was logical. I had to keep going. I remembered from the map that the mountains were dotted with secret passages that led to the other side. I knew I had to find an entrance. That is exactly what I did. It took me some days, but I found a passage. I sent up a prayer to Yavanna and entered._

_Remember those miserable days lost in Mirkwood’s misery. You once made mention of strange things in the bowels of the mountains. I asked you about it and you told me that dread wood reminded you of tales your mother told you about what lurked in the deep of Erebor. You said she said that smart dwarves never ventured into the depths. Things lurked below that grew enraged if disturbed. You told me of tunnels that lay abandoned and moldering. Miners experienced strange, foul things in those tunnels. They were so bad that some actually killed themselves after their experience. Well, Thorin, I can understand that need._

_The tunnels I ventured through were akin to a tomb. I felt myself edging toward madness the longer I spent in those foul places. I barely slept. I honestly heard odd noises that brought to mind fantastically horrid beasts. Every shadow seemed intelligent. I felt them gather around me, following my progress. Whenever I prayed to Yavanna for comfort, I swore I heard tinny laughter. Something was amused by my growing fright and taunted me for it. There were times I swear I glimpsed eyes observing me. I felt a burgeoning desire to simply find a hole and let myself die of hunger and thirst. Yet memories of my home kept me going. I know I made it to the other side; I know I did. It’s just that my memory becomes hazy. I only remember little tidbits. For some reason, all those bits center on me in a dark, dead land where the only sound was my frantic heartbeat. I don’t know what that land was, but I find myself thankful I don’t remember more._

_According to Lord Elrond, I was unconscious by a patrol. They carried me into Rivendell, placing me under Elrond’s care. I passed three weeks unconscious until I woke. Elrond was most pleased when I came to for he told me he feared I would pass at any moment. I spent many weeks in Rivendell gaining my strength. Much of that time was spent in Elrond’s company. I told him of everything that befell me since I fled Erebor. Unlike Thranduil, Elrond did not curse your fat head. He just shook his head, telling me it was a great shame I had to flee to escape unwanted attention. When he asked me of my future plans, I told him I would return to the Shire. I needed to know if I still had a home. I told him I would seek aid from my Took relations if Bag End was no longer mine. I was surprised when he told me my home would be safe. I pressed him, but he offered me a maddening smile. He simply told me he had sent a protection to my home. It would be safe until I returned._

_Unsurprisingly, this fueled my curiosity. Yet I refrained from bothering him with unneeded questions. He and his kin were excellent hosts, making sure I was properly healed before I began the last leg of my journey. Despite my assurances, Lord Elrond sent his sons with me as escorts. They would take me as far the Shire. Before I left, he assured me again that all would be well. I barely suppressed the urge to grab him by the ears and demand he tell me what he knew. (I think he knew because he had that maddening glint in his eyes.) We parted beneath a clear night sky. The moon seemed to wink additional assurances at me._

_I must say, his sons were interesting company. We passed much time telling each other of our travels, the strange people we encountered, the weirdness of soul marks, etc. They reminded me of your dingbat nephews; just taller and more subtle in their humor. Yet they understood why I fled. They too told me tales of Elves who disregarded their marks. I still shudder when I think of those poor, mad wretches. I was tempted to ask them if they knew anything about their father’s “protection,” but refrained. I did not wish to seem desperate. There is one bonus in traveling with Elves. They make time pass so much quicker. Before long, we were at the borders of the Shire._

_I think you of all beings know best the feeling of returning home after so long away. I won’t bore you by recounting the turbulent joy I felt in seeing my beloved homeland again. I will say that I think I understood you a bit better in those first moments. I understood your determination in reclaiming Erebor. Absence makes a home more precious. (I wish I could be more eloquent; I really do.) Lord Elrond’s sons were kind enough to let me have those first moments alone. Yet the time came for us to part. I watched them ride off, leaving me to take those first steps into the Shire. I shouldered my pack and began my journey home._

_I must say I had no clue what to expect. It was nighttime when we arrived. There were few hobbits about and most were hurrying home or to the pub. No one paid me any mind. I think they assumed I was a visitor from one of the other areas. My footfalls became heavy as I wondered what to do. I opted to try my luck with hobbits I knew. My feet carried me to the home of the Gamgees. Hamfast and his wife were dear friends before you lot barged into my lives. I walked to their door, listening to their children’s screams and Bell’s exasperated reprimands. I didn’t immediately knock. It took me a moment to gather my courage. When I did knock, I thought I wouldn’t be heard over their children’s screams. Yet Hamfast heard me. He opened the door, lantern in hand. I will never forget his face when he raised it to look at his nighttime visitor. I assume we stood there for awhile in silence as Bell came over to see what was wrong. She took one look at me and shrieked. We were soon surrounded by puzzled hobbits, an irate Lobelia, and our Mayor. Hamfast had to be carried inside as he was stunned into silence._

_My return was met with a heavy dose of skepticism. (HONESTLY!) I had to offer explanations as to why I ran off. Lobelia kept harping about me being an imposter. Hamfast had to restrain his Bell from walloping Lobelia with her rolling pin. The Mayor didn’t know what to think. It wasn’t until someone shouted about my soul-mate that the mood changed. I noticed several hobbits exchange nervous looks. A few even muttered prayers to Yavanna for protection. The Mayor stepped forward._

_He asked me if I had met my Mate while away. I froze. How was I to respond? My expression must’ve said something for he asked me to explain our meeting. It took me a moment, but I did. All I said was that I had met my Mate, but circumstances resulted in their passing. I had been bereft for some years. I thought this would appease them, but it didn’t. The Mayor asked me if I was sure my Mate was dead. I became angry. Of course, I told them, I saw them die! You don’t forget something like that! You don’t forget the pain that rips through your bones when your soul is cleaved! Nor do you forget the sight of your mark going into mourning! I followed Shire tradition and bound my palm. Whenever I changed wrappings or had to clean my hands, I always looked away. I didn’t need to be reminded about my loss. (Lords Elrond and Thranduil respected my wish.)_

_Silence met my outburst. Every hobbit looked bewildered. Even Lobelia looked puzzled. Hamfast knelt beside me. He asked me to look again. I didn’t understand why they didn’t believe me. Hamfast gently repeated his request. I wanted to yell, scream, anything; Hamfast’s gentle eyes squashed that desire. With a huff, I lifted my left hand up, revealing the black binding that encircled my palm. I found the free end and began unwrapping slowly. Hamfast quickly pulled the binding away, allowing me to look at my palm. I did, I did. It took my mind a dreadfully long time to process what I was seeing. I thought for a moment the months had finally caught up to me. I blinked, slapped my cheeks, pinched my arm, and even had Bell dump a cup of cold water on my head. My eyes were not deceiving me. I was out the door when my mind accepted the reality of what my palm was telling me. I was dimly aware of the hobbit horde chasing after me._

_My poor feet, so weary from the months, practically sailed to Bag End. I didn’t know what to think. How could I? My palm was telling me my Mate was alive! Yes, Thorin, my Mate was alive! Reality pounced the moment my feet halted in front of my front door. My nerves bristled in terror. What was I to do? Do I knock? What was I to say? Do I apologize for seemingly ignoring them? Do I just throw myself at their feet and beg for forgiveness? Do I just walk away? I was so busy wondering what to do that I failed to hear the door open. I didn’t hear my dear One pad out of Bag End. I received that final confirmation of his existence when he spoke._

_“Hello, you lunatic.”_

_I spun around. He stood before me, holding a small lantern in one hand. The emotions I feared were nonexistent. His face was a sea of amusement and affection. I stood there, wanting to embrace him, but held back, fearing this was a trick. He understood my fear. He calmly walked up to me and, holding his lantern aloft, showed me his palm. Tears welled in my eyes as I showed him mine. I looked at him. He looked at me. A wondrous smile, more radiant then the gold of Erebor, broke out on his face._

_“Welcome home, my darling.”_

_According to my One, I gave a hysterical laugh before dropping into his arms in a dead faint. He managed to drag me into Bag End. The hobbit horde, witnessing the whole thing, dispersed. They knew he’d allow no one in Bag End. Yet Hamfast was able to argue his way in. They placed me on his bed and tucked me in. I slept for nearly two days straight. I awoke one afternoon with my One and Bell at my side. Bell rushed off to prepare a bath. My One helped me out of bed. His gentle arms carried me to my bath. He told me breakfast would be waiting once I got out. I was left to savor my first bath in my home. Well, OUR home. I had no wish to dilly-dally in the bath. I wanted to be out there with him, to get to know him. And that is exactly what we’ve been doing._

_I must say, he’s become quite the celebrity here in Hobbiton. He’s a foul-tempered brat with just about everyone. Oh, and Lobelia HATES him! Hates him with a passion that would make you dwarves terrified. Of course, all of my Took and Brandybuck relations love him. It’s priceless to see the little ones guilt him into wearing flower crowns. By extension, I’m also a celebrity. Lobelia learned from Bell that I had some treasure and now EVERY idiot cousin I never knew I had wants to be my friend. It’s a good thing my Mate is so wretched. He’s been scaring them away. It’s allowed us plenty of time to properly get acquainted._

_I will always treasure the moments we’ve shared so far. We’ve learned much about each other. We take long walks through the Shire. Not only does it allow me a chance to show him my home, it gives us a chance to share our tales. I learned of everything he went through on his journey here. He too experienced the terrors in the bowels of the Misty Mountains. When I told him I experienced the same thing, he explained the lore surrounding those foul places. I told him of my odyssey away from you. Unsurprisingly, this led to the question that I had been dreading answering. We were out by one of the many ponds on a picnic. It was a balmy day. The sun was slumbering behind light clouds. We were enjoying Bell’s mince pie when he finally asked. Did I not know that he lived? It took me moment to respond._

_You see, Thorin, a hobbit’s mark can react in one of three ways when their Mate passes. All three signify that the soul has been permanently split. The mark goes into a type of mourning, telling the living half that they are now bereft of their other half. One way is complete erasure. The surviving hobbit’s mark completely disappears from their hand. The second is fading. This involves the colors and lines becoming faint. The survivor will still have a mark, but it will be near-impossible to make out. The final way is decaying. It’s not as horrid as it sounds. The mark will remain, but it will “fall apart,” if you will. Allow me to explain as this is what happened to me._

_My mark is that of Bag End. It’s a miniature copy, down to the hedges outside. The colors are exactly the same. When he “died,” my mark decayed. Every bright color disappeared. Some divine hand took a swath of sickly brown and swiped it all over my mark. That was just the beginning. Mini-Bag End fell into disrepair. Every inch of it seemed to crumple. The roof half-collapsed. The hedges and grass grew wild. Each window was covered with grime and cracks. My poor door was gone. The decay would only get worse. I followed tradition and kept my hand bound. It signifies to hobbits that we are in mourning. I then had the unenviable task of explaining that I never once looked at my hand when I had to remove the bindings. It was too painful._

_My poor Mate didn’t say anything. He just took me in his arms and held me. I told him how sorry I was for ignoring my mark. Had I known he was alive, I would have rushed home. He told me I had nothing to feel sorry for. All blame was placed on you for your idiotic pursuit. Still, he expressed regret for not seeking me out sooner. Yet we were now together. That was all that mattered._

_Oh, dear! Look how long this monster is! I just wanted to dash off a short letter and it’s turned into a novel! I will close with this. Thorin, for the love of all that is good in this world, abandon your pursuit! I have been given a blessing far more precious than anything that exists in Erebor. I am now complete. My soul is now full, bound to the One who was always meant for me. The love you still believe I have for you is nonexistent. You will only hurt yourself if you continue your inane pursuit. Please, Thorin! Find the one meant for you. It is not me!_

_Respectfully,  
Bilbo_

_PS: Lobelia told me about the letter she sent you. Don’t worry about being called a pinhead. She calls me a pinhead every Tuesday. Just know that what she really wanted to call you is not fit to be repeated in proper company._


	7. An Important Announcement from Hamfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a confrontation long delayed is set into motion.

_To Thorin Oakenshield,_

_My name is Hamfast Gamgee. I apologize in advance for sending you this letter as I know I have no business bothering royalty. As Mr. Bilbo is busy with preparations, he gave me leave to write this. I hope you forgive any mistakes as I’m not used to writing to people of high quality._

_Mr. Bilbo is doing very well, sir. He was in a frail state when he returned. You have no idea how shocked me and the wife were when he showed up at our door. My wife had a fit when she saw him. Though that Elf friend of his said he was healthy to travel, we could tell he was not. He barely looked like a proper hobbit. It’s been slow getting him back to his full state, but between me, my wife, and that One of his, he’s getting there. We’ve had to take it slow. Poor Mr. Bilbo got sick when my wife made him a full meal. We got a healer who explained that his stomach cannot take big meals just yet. It needs to get used to the extra food. Mr. Bilbo had taken his advice. What he hasn’t done is take things slow for Bag End. He wants to get things back to proper shape. His One has been doing an admirable job getting him to rest when he needs to._

_Bilbo’s One has certainly become the talk of the Shire. It took ages for us to warm up to him as he doesn’t act like a proper hobbit. He’s rude, cold, absolutely unfriendly, and demanding. Yet we accepted him because he put Lobelia, that shrill harpy, in her place. The wife baked him every pie under the sun as a thank you for that glorious day. I honestly cannot imagine why the Fates tied Bilbo to him, but he’s been good for Bilbo. He’s taken care of Bilbo like a proper mate should. Better yet, Bilbo loves him. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that they aren’t seen together. Bilbo’s One acts superior, but I’ve seen the love on his face. Bilbo is more alive, more joyous. This isn’t the momentary lust that most mistake for love. This is the kind that inspires its bearers to legendary deeds. Their souls are entwined for the rest of their lives._

_Mr. Bilbo told us why he took so long getting back to the Shire. Me and the wife were horrified, sir. How anyone could try to force a bond on someone who isn’t their mate is beyond understanding. There is no reason for you to pursue him now, sir. Bilbo has his mate and they are happy. Most importantly, they are to be tied in a way you cannot break. This is the reason I write, sir. Bilbo Baggins is soon to be a married hobbit._

_The whole Shire is abuzz. It’s been ages since we had a wedding, especially one on a grand scale. Bilbo wished to write himself, but he has been consumed with preparations. He did, though, wish me to send some personal thoughts. Though he hopes you’re well, he prays you finally abandon your pursuit. He prays you will allow him his happiness. There is nothing in Erebor that will bring him back. He and his mate will live out their days in the Shire. He prays you finally understand, sir._

_I echo Mr. Bilbo’s sentiments, sir. Please recognize that he can never be yours and allow him his happiness._

_Respectfully,_  
Hamfast Gamgee  
On Behalf of Mr. Bilbo Baggins, Esq., and- 

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO  
“WHAT!”

Thorin’s enraged roar silence all cheer at the table. Every member of his court turned their heads to the head of the table. Thorin had leapt out of his seat, glaring at the parchment he clutched. They knew it was horrid news. Their king’s skin had drained of all color. His eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. His chest rose and fell rapidly while his hands trembled. Some courtiers, hidden within the shadows of the dining hall, exchanged quick, worried glances. They all wondered the same thing.

“What is it, Uncle?” asked Fili as he rose from his seat.

Thorin was silent.

“Is it about Bilbo?” asked Kili. 

All at the table glanced at each other. The letters Bilbo Baggins had left and sent were legendary within Erebor. It was no small feat to run from a king. It was even greater feat to run to parts unknown and remain hidden for so long. Sentiment had changed slowly. Many returning dwarves had hoped Thorin would forget the traitor and find a proper mate among their women. His behavior towards the high lords declared his true feelings. Sentiment on the whole situation divided everyone into three camps. 

The first maintained their position on Bilbo. They wanted their king to forge ahead with a proper wife from among their people. They refused to accept his obsession with a foreigner. The second sided with Thorin. They believed Bilbo needed to stop running and return to Erebor. By becoming Consort, he would live out his days among loved ones. He could learn to love Thorin if he gave him a chance. Kili and Fili were considered the heads of this camp. The third camp sided with Bilbo. While they harbored mixed feelings towards Bilbo, they were familiar with the lore surrounding soul-marks. They knew the various stories of forced bonds and incompatible marks. To Kili and Fili’s great chagrin, the rest of the Company belonged to this camp.

Shocked gasps returned attention to Thorin. His nephews were standing at his side, reading the dreaded letter. Their stunned expressions indicated the news was not good. Thorin seemed to stare at nothing, his expression lost.

“How can this be?” breathed Kili. His eyes appeared shiny with tears.

“This can’t be possible,” said Fili, “it just can’t be.”

Balin stood and moved towards Thorin. He gingerly removed the letter from Thorin’s hands. Taking a few steps back, he held the letter up and began to reading. Dwalin left his seat to join his brother. The rest of the court watched their expressions change from keen interest to surprise.

“Well,” said Dwalin, “guess that settles things, then.”

“It settles nothing!” snapped Kili, glaring at Dwalin. “Bilbo can’t do this to Uncle!”

“There’s no way around it, lad,” said Balin. “This letter and Bilbo’s last one have made things clear to us. I think we should’ve paid better heed to that letter from that Lobelia woman.”

“But Bilbo’s making a mistake!” howled Fili. “He’s making a terrible mistake!”

“What do you propose we do, Highness?” demanded Dwalin. “Send someone to the Shire to stop the wedding?”

“Yes.”

All eyes turned back to Thorin. Cold determination was settling into his body. With looks to his nephews, he turned heel and strode to the doors behind his seat. His nephews ran after him. Dwalin spoke as soon as all three had vacated the hall.

“Dear Mahal, what did I just do?”

Balin sighed. “I think you initiated the confrontation that’s been put off for far too long.”

Dwalin looked pained. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”

“No, brother, I don’t believe it will.”


	8. You Dingbats!

_Dearest Brother and Sons_

_Hello. Just know that I write this with deep murderous intent in my heart. Now you three must be very surprised right now. If your brains are working, I’m sure you’re all regretting ever dashing off from our home. I’m sure you’re recalling that you sent word to me to return to Erebor WITH ALL DUE SPEED. Eager to return to our home and be reunited with you, my retinue and I have been traveling across the lands at breakneck speed. All of us were excited to see the mountain now freed of Smaug’s taint. I sent word to expect us. So imagine my surprise when, upon our arrival, we were not greeted by you, but by Balin and Dwalin._

_When I asked where you were, they gave me such a flowery excuse that I knew right then they were lying. I bided my time, though. My company and I were tired and needed good food, rest, and a stiff drink. It was wonderful to be home. I knew the brothers Fundinson thought I believed their excuse for your absence. I took great pleasure in their discomfort one night when I summoned the remaining members of your Company to my chambers for a private meeting. I told them straightaway that I knew they were lying about your absence. I wanted to know what could have possessed you three to depart so suddenly, forgetful of my arrival. I must say, I’ve never seen so many males look so terrified in my entire life. After an hour of flowery nonsense, they gave up and told me._

_Imagine my face when they told me you were off to stop a wedding in some far-off place called the Shire._

_When I asked them why, a nice boy named Ori pulled out a bundle of sheets from a satchel he was carrying. I guessed those sheets were important by the way his brother, Dori, scolded him. Balin took them and gave them to me, telling me that these were letters from the 14th member of the Company, one Bilbo Baggins. These letters would explain why you had gone to the Shire. I took the letters. I let the Company leave and they scrambled out of my chambers like the plague was at their heels. I settled in to read, enjoying some fresh mead. I’ll admit I didn’t expect much from those letters. As I hadn’t been told of this Bilbo Baggins, I assumed the correspondence was routine greetings between two friends. I have one thing to say to you three._

_YOU DIMWITTED DINGBATS!!!!_

_I KNEW YOU WERE AN IDIOT, THORIN, BUT I NEVER IMAGINED THAT YOU’D BE THIS MUCH OF AN IDIOT! FILI AND KILI, HAVE I FAILED SO MUCH AS A MOTHER THAT YOU’D DISREGARD EVERYTHING I TAUGHT YOU? YOU ARE ALL DISGRACES UPON THIS MOUNTAIN AND WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU FLEABITTEN LOT, I’M GOING TO--_

_(I’ve been told to calm down. I just gave a visiting dignitary from the Blue Mountains a near-heart attack from my ranting and raving.)_

_I’ve never been more ashamed of you three! It’s one thing to disregard the pleadings of someone you CLAIMED as a friend. It’s another thing entirely to continue to cling to fantasy in the hopes of a good ending. Are you three so blinded by what YOU want that you can’t recognize you’re heading for broken hearts? This Bilbo has made it perfectly clear that he does not WANT YOU, Thorin! I’ve never met him and even I have the brains to recognize a rejection when I see one. And to you, my dimwitted sons, why would you allow this pursuit to continue? Why did you allow this fantasy to consume your Uncle to the point he risked insurrection among the lords? I cannot believe you are all so stupid! I’m in half-a-mind to travel to the Shire myself to kiss this Bilbo for having a brain._

_I’m going to put aside my pen now. I’m going to have words with your precious Company for letting this idiocy continue for so long. King Thranduil is coming tomorrow and believe me when I say I will be having words with him._

_I pick up my pen again with a calmer head. Thranduil departed today. He and I had a lengthy discussion over this Bilbo situation. Know that all of you are dead idiots. Thranduil explained Bilbo’s state of mind when he was taken in Mirkwood. The poor thing was utterly terrified of being discovered. Honestly, Thorin, was that what you wanted? To have a lover so utterly terrified of you that they begged an Elf for help? Dear Mahal’s ass, you have no idea the level of heartbreak you’re heading for._

_I had hoped he would’ve held you captive, but, alas, no. Thranduil told me you lot passed through his lands the hard way. By his reckoning, you’re all Elrond’s problem once you make it past the Mountains. And know this well, family dear. When you come crawling back with your tails between your legs and your hearts in pieces, you will find no sympathy from me! I’ll just laugh at you._

_In closing, know that I will be sending two copies of this letter to Lord Elrond and this Bilbo Baggins with stern warnings that they be given to you immediately. I expect you lot back in Erebor or, help me Mahal, I’ll leave the safety of the mountain to find you and you better PRAY that doesn’t happen._

_Your deeply annoyed Sister and Mother, respectively,  
Dis_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up:  
> Bilbo's soulmate is revealed.


	9. A Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's One decides to step in and give Thorin a reality check.  
> The letter is unsigned, but a careful read will reveal the identity of Bilbo's One.

**To Thorin Oakenshield, Fool Under the Mountain,**

**You know exactly who this is. You know exactly why I’m writing.**

**By the time you receive this, you will have returned from the Shire in failure. I laugh at the thought of you returning to a cold, cold bed and the humiliation of knowing I won. I’ll spend the rest of my days at Bilbo’s side while you will have only cold stone and your fist to keep you company. I pray this missive will FINALLY get through to your inbred skull what Bilbo has been saying for ages. I know he will not take kindly to this letter, but his kindness towards you will never resolve matters.**

**To be quite honest, I must say that I have never seen such a blatant display of stupidity in my life. Were you not so consumed by your petty vanity, you would have seen the pity in Bilbo’s eyes. He was far too kind in his rejection of you. I know you’re planning some ridiculous response to the fact he is now mine. You dwarves are so predictable. So allow me to say this just once**

**Bilbo Baggins is mine! He is my mate, my missing half, and, to use your terminology, my One. Everything about him is mine. His heart, soul, and love are mine! I knew he was mine the moment I saw him. I saw his mark color in my presence. Mine colored the moment I morphed into my hobbit body. Our marks are united. To dare try to cleave them is both suicidal and foolish. You will never have Bilbo so long as I exist. He belongs to me, you idiot! He will never accept you as lover and husband. Frankly, what do you have to offer? You, a foolish lunatic who carries the taint of inbred sires in his blood!**

**He has told me of the letters he sent you. The ones you apparently disregarded as you clung to your obsession. I saw what you truly thought of him when you berated him before the great Party Tree. You dwarves never change. To you and your foolish nephews, Bilbo is a mere toy. You are more than happy to toss him aside when he doesn’t perform as you want, but you cling to him when someone else comes and sees the true value of him. You are a child in that regard, o King, and will always remain one. You simply want Bilbo because someone else has him. You still believe you can make him love you. Deny it all you want, but you cannot fool someone like me. I’ve lived far too long and know the difference between genuine love and petty desire. I must admit: it was quite amusing to watch your vapid nephews weep over my gain. Warriors they may be, but they will always be empty children in my eyes.**

**You could have mustered some dignity and left when Bilbo told you to. You could have accepted the divinely-appointed decision and left. You could have maintained your dignity and status and returned to Erebor to look for a consort. Yet you had to ruin it all by opening your fool mouth one final time. You allowed your jealousy and pettiness to manifest completely. Had your stupidity not blinded you, you would have seen Bilbo blanch in terror at your words.**

**Know this, fool, and know it well.**

**I can still morph into my true form.**

**Should you dare rob me of Bilbo or attempt harm upon the Shire, I will revert to my true form. I will fly to your useless mountain. I will wreck such a vengeance upon your heads that all your kind will curse your name for eternity. I will carry out a holocaust that will be remembered till the end of days. Erebor will be a tomb for every dwarf who dares to call it home. You will be the King of Nothing!**

**This is not an idle threat. I swear to do this upon the bones of my kin. Bilbo is mine and I will allow no harm to come to my other half. He is my most beloved treasure and he is mine. His people, annoying though they may act, are under my protection as well.**

**Do not return to the Shire. Do not send envoys or gifts to woo him back. If you value your kingdom, never think of Bilbo Baggins again. You would do well to remind your whiny kin of this. Do not send any gifts or treasure to try and lure him away. Do not send any soldiers to the Shire’s borders. I will watch and listen for any changes. That’s the benefit of living among hobbits. News travels very quickly. If you wish to send a missive, take care with what you say. Your words will decide the fate of your kingdom.**

**Remember, Thorin: I will be watching.**


End file.
